


hm

by beastlyboop



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Eye Trauma, Gen, Gore, Mouth trauma, Reader-Insert, gender neutral reader, inappropriate use of commas, nothing inherently sexual here but mind the tags, teeth pulling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlyboop/pseuds/beastlyboop
Summary: you thought you knew these woods but now it seems like you’re somewhere else, away, not longer in oregon, or even on earth. it’s eerie. the feeling of being watched, like someone burning a hole in the back of your head, like eyes on you at all times, and it’s not just the pattern on the trees around you.-even there, away from the trees, it never leaves you.





	hm

**Author's Note:**

> [on tumblr](https://beastlybutts.tumblr.com/post/127976285590/hm-bill-cipher-x-reader)

you thought you knew these woods but now it seems like you're somewhere else, away, not longer in oregon, or even on earth. it's eerie. the feeling of being watched, like someone burning a hole in the back of your head, like eyes on you at all times, and it's not just the pattern on the trees around you. 

the quiet is getting to you as well, the absence of any birdsong, any animal call, and the lack of cicada chirp on this hot august afternoon. but no, it's not completely silent – there is the occasional snap of a twig, the rustling of a nearby branch. it wouldn't be freaking you out so badly if there was more of it. it's making you paranoid. your head snaps to look at every sound, to see if you can catch anything, although you hope you don't. 

when you trip while scrambling over a small incline, you slice your hand on a rock as you fall to your knees, cursing under your breath at the sting of the fresh cut. when you get back up and again trip, catching yourself on a nearby tree with your injured hand, that's when you decide to cut this hike short. you take a nearby trail back to where you parked, clean your cut with a nearby faucet, wrap it with some gauze from the first-aid kit in your trunk, and head back home. 

even there, away from the trees, it never leaves you.

x

in your room, but not your room, the light is very dim, being cast by the power light of the tv across the room, creating soft light against the wall next to you. despite living on a busy street, it's quiet, and even though you know you turned your fan on before you went to bed, you can't hear it. just a steady, low hum. everything looks very plain, gray in the dim light. the picture on the wall to your right looks different, blank, but you can't move your head to see it, or anything else. sleep paralysis, you know, which you have experienced before. although before, at least you could move your eyes. now you're stuck staring at the ceiling. 

the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars you put there when you were a kid still worked. now they were bright, even brighter than when they were new, almost painfully so, and hard to look at. they seem bright enough to burn holes in the ceiling, glowing, and pulsating. you can't even close your eyes to block out the bright light.

now panic sets in, cold, real, in the pit of your stomach, as the star above you warps, spins, grows, until you think it might hit you and you can't move to avoid it. but it stops short, spinning, now a circle, steady, white, an eye, you realize, as the pupil appears, long and skinny, in the middle of it, which seems to have now taken over the room, or at least your field of vision. and now, changing again, around it, growing out of it, yellow, dull, blurry, and then – out of nothing, a shape, a triangle. a pyramid with an eye? and a bow tie and, yes, what appears to be a small hat. silly, something unexpected, and yet, still, your fear lingers. maybe you've been watching too much tv.

and you stare at each other, if the thing you're looking at could be considered an “other”, something that could stare with intent, and you feel that it can, and it does, and is, and for ages. then, movement startles you, a dark line, an arm sprouting out, and fingers, small. when it touches you it feels real, cold, and warm, like the shock of hot water on you before you pull away, before your brain can process it, without the burn afterwards. otherwise, weightless.

the fingers pull at your eyelid, your eyebrow, pull up, pushing, letting it go back to where it rests. it does it to both, at the same time, pulling the skin, like sculpting clay that won't keep the shape. you can feel it's thumbs pull your eyelids closed and gently, with fingers resting on your temples, press down into your eyes, with steady force, until you think it might just dig its thumbs inside, into your eyeballs. your breath quickens, stomach clenching, knowing you cant pull away. real terror, for once, is what you feel, and as you realize that, it pulls away, and your eyes snap back open. it's different, now, you think, and wonder how can one eye convey so much? it seems like its smiling, happy- no, that's the wrong word. it's enjoying this. 

it touches your lips, opens them, opens your mouth, and pulls down your jaw and it stays there, propped open. it pulls on your tongue, lets it fall back in, wiping your warm spit on your cheek where it cools against your skin. it feels your teeth, spends time there, careful- no, not careful, but thorough. it grabs each tooth between thumb and forefinger and holds it, wiggles it, checking for loose teeth perhaps. feels like you're at the dentist, but worse. at least there they let you watch tv.

it runs a finger along your gums, under your lips, under your tongue, pushing up against your hard pallet, and soft, like taking stock of something, and when it starts to push its fingers down your throat you gag, afraid now that if you vomit you may choke. it pulls its hand back and you cough, eyes watering.

it pauses, watching, before it reaches back in, feeling the molar at the top right side, at the back, holding it again. and now, a pulling sensation, one small hand resting on your forehead as it tugs, and you can feel the tooth sliding free from its socket, without pain, but the pressure is intense and the following empty sensation alarms you. you can taste the blood flowing down your throat, and you swallow.

it pulls its hand out, tooth in hand, holding it above you, and you can feel a drop of blood, or spit, or both land on your face. it drops the tooth onto the bed beneath you. it begins again, reaching in, grabbing the next tooth, your heart racing, breath coming fast against the intruding fingers. it's painless, but it feels so real. 

you keep loosing teeth, canine, incisor, until your top gum is bare, just empty holes, the blood flowing down your throat. unbearable, you cough and blood splatters against the yellow skin of the creature above you, lands back on your face. you sob, and you can feel the teeth laying against your neck on the bed, on your throat, your chest. the bottom row follows soon after.

once done, it reaches back inside, running a finger across your bare gums, and pulls back, blood dripping from its fingers and onto your face, and closes your mouth.

it holds your face for a moment, then uses its thumbs to pull up the corners of your mouth, making you smile, toothless, and pulling down the corners of your eyes, pinching your cheeks. all you can do is stare and sob and whine, your mouth filled with blood which seeps down your cheeks and chin when you cough, and stains the bed, real, and wet.

and even when its fingers leave your face it stays stuck like that, like clay, frozen. hands come back to push up your eyelids, now farther than before, pulling them up and away from the eye, fingers sliding in underneath, at the top and bottom, and you can feel two fingers scoop out your eyes from the sockets. you can feel the muscle pulling, straining, and finally snapping. the left eye comes first, and darkness, real, black, flows in. then the right, gone as quick as the left, and you're plunged into darkness.

x

you awake suddenly, thrashing, as if you had until now been held down. you fall out of bed, coughing, sobbing, and gasping for breath, onto the floor, legs failing you. on your knees, hands feeling your face, your mouth, tongue running against your teeth, you feel them there. sobbing in relief, face wet with tears, you're shaking as you stand, body cold with sweat, fingers trembling as they turn on the lamp at your bedside.

sitting now on the edge of the bed, your hand drips with blood, the injury having soaked through the bandage, leaving a smear of blood on your cheek, and on your thigh as you move to stand up. wiping your face, you look around the room before quickly going to the bathroom to take care of your hand. you end up sleeping, dreamless, on the couch, with the tv on.


End file.
